The Hunger Games: Reigniting the flames
by ohbloodynora
Summary: Katniss settles down with Peeta and starts a family despite her saying she'd never have kids due to the games. Katniss' daughter Willow is now 16, and it's time for the reaping. Willow finds herself to be a participant in the 122nd Hunger Games and it's safe to say that it was no happy accident.
1. The day before the Reaping

**Chapter 1**

It is the day before the reaping and in total; it will be my 16th reaping. I sit up in my bed and look over at the window. The sun hasn't raised yet, which means I'll have time to go into the woods before school. School in District 12 is pointless in my opinion, I mean who wants to learn about the properties of coal when the most we'll ever do is dig it up and chuck it in a cart off to the Capitol? I quietly slide out of bed and walk over to my wardrobe, being careful not to step on any creaky floorboards. I throw on a long-sleeved t-shirt and some trousers before staring at my own reflection in the mirror, debating on what to do to my hair. My long brown hair hangs limply around my heart shaped face. I find it strange how on some days, I look like my mum, Katniss, and then on other days, I look like my dad, Peeta. I have bright blue eyes that stand out against my olive coloured skin, and a spray of freckles across my nose and high cheek bones. I loathe my freckles. I decide on doing a quick fishtail braid. I'd rather not do the side braid my mum does, I don't like being similar to her, although, living in district 12, almost every girl wears their hair in a braid. "District 12: the town of braids," I mutter to myself, laughing at it slightly as I pull a soft, wool hat over my head. I tiptoe downstairs and put on my old worn socks with my brown leather boots that are slightly too big as I'd been given them as a present for my birthday last year but haven't grown into them like my mum expected. I take my cardigan off of the hook by the back door and put it on as I grab a slice of yesterday's bread from the kitchen counter. I silently slip out the back door of my home in the Victors village and walk towards the Seam. My parents would rather I didn't go out hunting on my own, so I have my whole family thinking I go out for a walk around the District every morning.

As I move through district 12 eating my bread, I smell the familiar smell of burnt coal. Most people don't like the smell, but living here, you get used to it. Of course, I imagine the Capitol smells a lot better, or so my parents say. As Victors hey have to travel there every year for the hunger games and so they mentor the poor souls being sent into the arena, like a lamb to the slaughter. People in the Capitol think I'm a lot like my mum and often, too often compare me to her. I am not my mum. I am my own person. Although we share a few qualities, I am definitely not like Katniss Mellark. I'm always referred to as 'the girl on fire's daughter'. Of course, I am her daughter but to be constantly referred to as that gets aggravating as if I don't have my own name. Is it so much to ask to be called Willow? I reach the end of the Seam with the wind blowing the loose strands of my hair into my face. Having to constantly flick the hair out my face as I go, I find my way to the house where my mum used to live with my Aunt Prim and my Grandmother. As I walk through the door, I'm greeted by aunt Prim's cat Buttercup. "Hiya Buttercup," I say as I stroke his ear. At least he likes me; he and my mum have some 'issues'. Even after all these years, Buttercup prefers this small dwelling over our home in the Victors Village. Technically, we have 2 homes in the Victors Village, but my Grandmother and Aunt Prim stay in the house assigned to my mum, whereas me, my Dad, Mum and Brother all stay in the house assigned to my Dad. I walk over to the wardrobe and pull open the doors, feeling for my Mum's hunting jacket in the darkness of the room. As I pull the jacket from the wardrobe I run my fingers along the soft leather, giving me a sense of comfort. It was my Grandfather's before it was my Mother's, and I always wished I could've met him before he'd died. I pull on the over-sized leather jacket and I grab my mum's game bag and abruptly head out the door again, into the chilly morning woods of District 12.

Before me stands a huge fence that surrounds District 12. The very fence that's meant to keep us cooped in. We are told the fence is for our own protection, to keep out wild animals. I know better than to think that. Out in the woods, there are weapons, there's food, and there are Mockingjays that sing forbidden songs. It's what the Capitol is afraid of freedom. I walk alongside the fence until I reach a section where there's a slight gap. It's supposed to be high voltage but we hardly have electricity during the day, only for a few hours or so, plus there was no buzzing sound, so it's not turned on. I position myself on my stomach and wriggle underneath the fence and I quickly pace it into the protection of the trees, covering my tracks as I go just as my Mum taught me to do. I carry on making my way deeper into the forest until I reach a hollow tree. I crouch down and reach into the tree before pulling out a bow and a quiver filled with arrows. Setting it down beside me I pull out the sharp, wooden knife-like weapons I carved myself, and shove it in a side pocket of the quiver. I sling the quiver over my shoulder and begin my hunt.

I weave my way through the trees, treading carefully on the soft pine on the forest floor. I manage to pick off a rabbit and two squirrels, although, I don't quite hit them in the eye like my mum can. I ready myself to shoot a bird when I see a flicker of movement. I lower my bow slowly and turn to find a Turkey. My eyes grow wide in amusement as I watch the Turkey walk out right in front of me. I raise my bow once more but it seems to have realised that I'm a threat and is now running away. I grunt and quietly follow after it. It finally comes to a stop and I crouch behind some rocks to avoid scaring it away again. I try to get a good angle to shoot at it but using a bow won't do me any good so I revert to using my wooden knives. I steadily hold my knife and aim at the Turkey. Suddenly I hear a crunch behind me and I instinctively throw the knife in the direction of the noise. Luckily, the knife lodges into a tree and narrowly misses my little Brother, Rye.  
"I think I just peed a little." He says in shock.  
"Rye, you shouldn't have followed me."  
"Well I wanted to come on a walk with you and you said you'd bring me but you didn't wake me like you'd said you would, so I followed you."  
"Well, you're too young anyway."  
"I'm old enough to know how to follow you without you noticing."  
"That's not the point, you're only eleven."  
"Actually, I'm eleven and two-sixths."  
I roll my eyes and there's a moment of silence before Rye speaks again.  
"I can see now that you're certainly not on a casual walk."  
"Yeah, well I could see that you ate the last biscuit that dad was saving for Haymitch but that doesn't mean I follow you around to see what you're eating."  
"For the last time, I didn't know that it was for Haymitch! And anyway, when mum finds out-"  
"Mum isn't going to find out because you are _not_ going to tell her!"  
"But Willow, the woods are dangerous and what if we get caught..."  
"Oh stop whining Rye. If you were worried about getting caught, you shouldn't have followed me past the fence. Did you even cover your tracks? Besides, I have weapons that I know how to use so I could easily take down a wild dog or something."  
Rye looks at me with worry spread across his face.  
"Ugh, fine. Let's go home. Just promise me you won't tell on me."  
Rye nods, "I promise."  
"Good."  
I take his hand and lead him back to the hollow log where I stash away the weapons. "I could have gotten my hands on a Turkey you know."  
"What's so special about a Turkey?"  
"I could have traded it for something nice."  
"Oh..."  
"Oh well."  
We reach the fence once more and I urge Rye to go first and I follow shortly after. "I need to stop by the Hob on the way."  
Rye doesn't look too pleased. "Is that the place with all the scary people?"  
"Yes."  
"Well, why would you need to go there? Aren't you afraid?"  
I am afraid, but people don't mind me being there as they know me from trading with my mum.  
"I'm not afraid." I lie. "I need to trade in my game; I can't just let it rot. If you want, you can wait outside?"  
Rye considers this before shaking his head. "I'd rather not be alone. Besides, I want to learn how to hunt and trading seems to play a big part in it."  
"Mum already taught you the basics."  
"Well, why can't you teach me some more? I'll need the practice if I ever get picked for the games."  
I give him a concerned look. "I'm hardly fit to teach you anything Rye."  
Fancy that! My 11-year-old brother wants me to teach him how to hunt! Little does he know I lied about being able to easily take on a wild dog, they're pretty hard to kill and it's probably wiser to scale a tree than to try and fight them. In all honesty, I'd probably freeze in my tracks and end up being mauled to death.  
"It's better than nothing." He replies. "I've practically forgotten everything that Mum has taught me, so if I get picked for the games, I won't even remember how to defend myself."  
"You don't even need to be thinking about the games Rye, you aren't even in the draw until next year and even still, your name will only be in there once since we don't need to take out Tesserae."  
"That didn't stop Aunt Prim from being picked."  
I sigh. "We'll see," I say, pulling him by his hand into the Hob.

We enter the hustle and bustle of the hob and walk straight over to Greasy Sae. I pull a squirrel out of the game bag and dump it on the counter in front of her.  
"A gift from me,." I say, smiling at her.  
Sae winks at me and chuckles.  
I take my brother by the hand once more and lead him round the stalls to look at all the jewellery. I scan the collection of jewellery, hoping to some sort of token like mother's Mockingjay pin but I find nothing and give up my search.  
"Let's go," I say giving Rye a nudge.  
"Finally." He mutters under his breath.  
Before going home, I stop by my mum's old house in the seam to drop back her hunting gear.

"How are you feeling about tomorrow Willow…are you scared?"

"Scared? Of what?"  
"Just because our parents are Victors, doesn't mean that we're immune to the Reaping!"  
"I know." In fact, it probably means we're much more likely to be chosen, but I decide not to share this thought with Rye.  
"Don't worry though Willow, they won't pick you this year."  
I look down at Rye with sad eyes. I know he's trying to be reassuring so I manage to force a smile. "Let's hope you're right."

I walk with Rye into our home in the Victors Village. Immediately, I hear my mum shout from the kitchen.  
"Willow you're late!"  
My mum comes walking to the main hall to greet me and is surprised when she sees Rye with me.  
"I got a bit held up...as you can see," I say gesturing towards Rye.  
"Right well, you'd both better hurry up and get dressed for school, you've got to leave in 10 minutes."  
With that, I run upstairs and quickly change out of my clothes and into a presentable school dress. I don't bother to redo my hair and so I go back downstairs to the kitchen for some food. My mum has already laid out a thick slice of bread, coated in goat's cheese for me.  
"You can't go to school with your hair like that."  
I huff as I plonk myself on the chair and eat my slice of bread. She comes over and takes out my fishtail braid which has been ruined by the wind and does my hair in 2 simple braids.  
"I used to have my hair like this for school." She says, tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears. "Your dad will remember."  
I get up and walk to a nearby mirror. The plaits make me look about 5 years younger than I actually am and I pretend to love the style to please my mum, even though I'm not so keen. My mum always seems to be on edge so I do my best to please her.  
Rye comes down shortly and is given a slice of bread to eat on the walk to school.

School that day was as boring as it always is. We learnt mostly about coal, again. Rye and I walk back home together and the moment we walk through the door, the smell of our dinner has wafted in from the kitchen, and into the hall. We always have a special dinner before the reaping, just in case it's our last meal as a family in our own home. Aunt Prim and grandma usually join us. No one ever says that this is the reason but no one has to, we all know why, but it's too heart-breaking to think about, we can't afford to think like that.  
For dinner, we eat a stew that grandma makes every year. Nobody says much, but I think we're all too busy enjoying the stew.

At bed time, my mum comes to tuck me in.  
"Mum?" I ask as she strokes my head.  
"Yeah?"  
"What's that song you used to sing to me?"  
"The lullaby?"  
"Yeah, the lullaby...will you sing it?"  
She hesitates for a moment but then begins to sing:

 _Deep in the meadow, under the willow,_  
 _A bed of grass, a soft green pillow,_  
 _Lay down your head, and close your eyes,_  
 _And when they open, the sun will rise._

 _Here it's safe, and here it's warm,_  
 _Here the daisies guard you from every harm,_  
 _Here your dreams are sweet,_  
 _and tomorrow brings them true,_  
 _Here is the place where I love you._

 _Deep in the meadow, hidden far away,_  
 _A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray,_  
 _Forget your woes and let your troubles lay,_  
 _And when again it's morning, they'll wash away,_

 _Here it's safe, and here it's warm,_  
 _Here the daisies guard you from every harm,_  
 _Here your dreams are sweet,_  
 _and tomorrow brings them true,_  
 _Here is the place where I love you._

By the end of the song, tears are running down my mum's face.  
"Mum, are you okay? You didn't have to sing if it made you upset-"  
"No, no. Willow, it's fine, I'm fine. The song brings back a memory, that's all." She wipes the tears from her face and gets up, leaving a kiss on my forehead before she turns off the lights and shuts my bedroom door.  
That night, I don't get much sleep; neither does my mum. I hear her screaming from her nightmares. A scream so terrifying, I can do nothing but hide under the covers, clamping my hands over my ears, wishing for it to stop. Soon there's silence, and that can only mean my dad has managed to calm her down. She hasn't had a nightmare in a long time and now I feel as if I triggered her nightmare, by asking her to sing that song. My mum told me that my Grandfather once said, "Songs can be just as dangerous as a weapon."

That's why there are some songs that are illegal to sing, and I know every word of those songs.  
Eventually, I drift into a restless sleep, with images of the reaping and Mockingjay's...and forbidden songs.

 **Authors note:**  
 **Hello! I'm Olivia**  
 **So, this is the very first chapter of a fanfic I had previously been writing on Wattpad but this is it now edited and improved so I hope it's a billion times better! Of course, credit to Suzanne Collins for the lovely lullaby.**  
 **I hope you liked this first chapter, I was hoping to give an insight into Willow's normal, day to day life before the bad stuff happens.**  
 **I always love seeing comments or constructive criticism or even suggestions for future chapters! So don't hesitate to interact with me, I don't bite!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Olivia**


	2. The Reaping: Part 1

I'm gently roused from my sleep by my mum and I prop myself up onto my elbows.  
"Morning, sleepyhead." She says in a quiet, raspy, voice. My mum looks rough. You can clearly see the bags under her eyes from a sleepless night. "Did you sleep okay?" She asks.  
"Yeah, I slept fine." I lie.  
"Good, well our prep team will be here in an hour and I know that they'd like to help you get ready too so quickly hop in the shower, wash your hair, do whatever. Just make sure you've got a towel around you for when they get here because they won't hesitate to walk in on you naked!"  
"Oh gosh, I definitely don't want that happening again." I laugh. Last year, the entire prep team walked in just as I was about to step into the shower and insisted that they wash me. I had to endure an awkward sponge bath from them they literally have no boundaries, none. I get up, quickly shower and sit in my towel eating a slice of toast while I wait for my prep team to arrive.

Soon enough, the prep team arrive and I'm rushed back into my bedroom to get dressed. The prep team chirp like birds as they look through my wardrobe, deciding on what I should wear. Down the corridor I can hear Effie barking orders at everyone, stressing that we must leave at 12:55 on the dot to get to the reaping with plenty of time to spare, especially since Effie and my parents need to be there earlier than everyone else. All of a sudden I hear multiple gasps, followed by an awful squealing sound.  
"It's perfect!" Venia says in delight as she holds up one of my dresses. The dress is a soft, baby blue and has a white collar. It's a fitted dress that I wear on special occasions.  
"That colour will look fabulous on you Willow! It'll really compliment your blue eyes!" says Flavius.  
"Put it on, put it on, put it on!" Octavia chants excitedly.  
I sigh before taking the dress out of Venia's hands and I put it on. The Capitol's interest in fashion will never fail to bewilder me, it's absolutely pointless. Once the dress is on, the prep team stand there gawping at me.  
Venia hands me a cream coloured coat to put on with it and they all sigh in sync.  
"Willow you look absolutely beautiful! You look so angelic! Now that I've seen how wonderful your brown hair looks with your outfit, I think I'm going to dye my hair brown!" says Flavius.  
 _You mean buy a brown wig. As if that's his real hair! For all I know, Flavius actually has dark skin and ginger hair._  
The other two are too busy holding back tears to comment.  
After they've pulled themselves together, they sit me down on a chair and begin on my hair. After what feels like hours of brushing, pulling, and blow-drying my hair and listening to them talk about what they think Cinna has done with my mum, the prep team step back to admire their work. They've braided both halves of my head but left the bottom half down which falls into perfectly sculpted ringlets. The braids are then pinned at the back of my head in a way that looks like a flower. The prep team are dying to use makeup on me but I refuse.  
"We'll make you look natural, we promise!" Octavia says as they all pout at me.  
"Ugh, fine." I mutter, even though I hate the feeling of it on my face. The last time I wore make up, I merely rubbed my eye and the next thing I know, I've got Effie screeching at me, explaining how I've smudged the prep teams beautiful masterpiece.  
They add a little bit of pink blusher to my cheeks and apply a light layer of mascara before finally finishing off with a nude lipstick which isn't noticeable and it doesn't look or feel as bad as I thought it would. "Wow...thank you guys so much." I say as sincerely as I possibly can. It's not that I don't appreciate it but I don't particularly want to stand out. I don't feel like I should be dressing as if the reaping is a special occasion, I think it would be more suited if everyone dressed in black as if it were a funeral because let's face it, District 12's tributes don't exactly have a winning streak.

The prep team are eager to present their work to Cinna and Portia, and excitedly lead me to my parents' bedroom where Cinna is styling my mum. Cinna has done a wonderful job. My mum looks very elegant and her features are delicately outlined. She's wearing a smart, cream coloured ruffled top, tucked into a pencil skirt and a simple pair of heels. Her hair is in an updo which makes her look very mature but I can tell she'd rather be having her usual braid.  
"Mum, you look so lovely! I wish I looked like you..."  
"Oh no, I wish I looked like you little duck!" she says coming over to me. "You look so beautiful, I'm sure every girl in district 12 will wish they looked like you."  
"Oh yes, you'll be the talk of the district." Octavia chimes in and the rest of the prep team nod in agreement.  
 _As if District 12 is interested in fashion._  
My Dad walks in, already dressed in a casual shirt and trousers, and his hair slicked back. "You both look beautiful." He says.

"Oh! I'd almost forgotten!" Says my mum suddenly as she goes to take something from her drawer. When she returns, she presses something cold and round into my hands. "I found this in an old box and I thought it would be nice if you had it, since you haven't got a token."  
I open my hand to look at what my mum had given me and my mouth curves into a smile.  
"Your Mockingjay pin?"  
"For good luck." She replies.  
"Wow...thank you mum." I say a little taken aback. I'd never thought in a million years that she'd want to see this pin ever again, surely it would bring back too many bad memories?  
"Here." She says, "Let me pin it on your dress for you." She bends down and carefully pins it just below the collar of my dress. "As long as you have this, it will protect you. I'm not saying that nothing bad will happen because we both know that that's not true, but it's worked for your Aunt Prim, it's worked for me, and I'm certain it'll do the same for you."  
Breaking the moment, a loud sob escapes from Octavia's mouth. "Imagine the Capitol watching this right now, the whole of Panem would be as emotional as I am! It's just such a beautiful moment between a mother and daughter and I feel so honoured that I got to witness it and-"  
"Octavia, I think, maybe we should let them have their moment alone?" Cinna interrupts.  
"Oh of course, of course! Silly me!" She chuckles. "Well you heard Cinna!" She says to the rest of the prep team. "Let's leave the happy family to have their private, special, wonderful, precious-"  
"Octavia!"  
"Right! I'm actually leaving now Cinna, sorry!" And with that, she tots out, shutting the door behind her.  
We make casual conversation until Effie comes into the room telling us that it's time to go.

We reach the Justice building at exactly 1:20pm and as usual, the Justice building is decorated with bright banners. Rye will arrive with my Grandmother and Aunt Prim to watch from the crowds behind the potential tributes.  
"Go sign in and we'll see you soon." my Dad says.  
"Okay, see you soon."  
I silently walk over to the line of teenagers and wait for my turn. I watch and see new people arriving, the look of anxiety and pure terror across their faces. _It could be any one of us._  
I finally reach the front of the line and I'm presented with a harsh looking peacekeeper.  
"Give me your hand." They say sternly and I obediently do so. They prick the tip of my finger and I'm then quickly waved on to join the group of 15 year old girls. I suck on my finger for a while to ease the slight sting the jab gave me and I stand and wait in an orderly fashion. Slowly, the crowd builds up and soon enough the town square is filled with the residents of District 12.  
The clock above the Justice building strikes two and Effie walks out, right on cue, with my parents, Haymitch, and the Mayor following closely behind. The Victors and Effie take their seats while the Mayor walks up to the microphone.  
Madge, the Mayor, then begins to read the same speech heard every year. She begins to tell us of the history of Panem and I completely zone out. The previous Mayor read so unbearably slow that it was almost a relief for him to pass the role onto his daughter, Madge. My Mother is friends with Madge, we often share a meal with her and her family on special occasions. When I zone back in, Madge is reading out the list of our Victors, only one is no longer with us. Thankfully, Haymitch doesn't appear to be drunk in public anymore thanks to my parents and is currently sitting in his chair, eyes closed with his head gently swaying. If I listen carefully, he appears to be humming.  
Everyone gives a respectful clap when the speech is done and the Madge introduces Effie before she sits back down on a chair. Effie then energetically jumps out of her seat and more or less skips over to the microphone. Evidently, Effie is as bubbly as she usually is and drabbles on about what an honour it is to be in District 12 when really, she's only here for Haymitch and my parents otherwise, I'm sure she would've moved up to a better District years ago. She goes on to say her signature "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favour!"  
Beforehand, I hadn't really taken any notice of what Effie was wearing this year but I must say, she should never again wear a red wig. Her big, bright, fluffy outfit does not compliment her wig at all, she looks much like a clown which, I have to admit, adds some humour to the atmosphere.  
The dreaded moment arrives and it's time to reap two unfortunate kids.  
"Ladies first!" Says Effie and she tottles over to the glass bowel in her 6 inch stiletto heels. Effie elegantly puts her hand in and begins to dig deep into the pile of names until she latches onto one and dramatically pulls it out. She waits till she arrives back at the podium to open it and I find myself sucking in a breath. Then I see the excitement on Effie's face slowly fade away and she begins to stutter.

What's wrong with her? Effie never stutters, unless she's picked a name that belongs to someone she actually cares about, Effie would never, ever stutter. Manners and proper etiquette are a big deal for Effie so whoever it is, they must be pretty special.

Then it dawns on me.

My heart sinks. I feel the colour drain out of my face and suddenly, it feels like there's no air for me to breathe. There's only one person in this crowd that Effie cares enough about for her to lose control over her emotions on live television.

 _That person is me_.

 **Author's note:**

 **Hey! So I'm still trying to figure out how to work and so in terms of replying to reviews…I have no clue what I'm doing lol! But thank you to RueJabberja for my very first review, I am more than happy to hear any character ideas or any plot/story idea's in general so feel free to send those ideas my way!**

 **I agree that Willow is a lot more innocent than Katniss because she's somewhat more 'shielded' by her parents but then we'll get to see a little more of her fire later on ;3 Also, we'll soon be meeting one of my favourite characters! I won't give too much away but they'll be fuelling the humour in this story; so exciting!**

 **Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!**

 **Liv**


	3. The Reaping: Part 2

**Chapter 3** **\- The Reaping: Part 2**

To confirm my thoughts, I hear Effie saying my name clearly into the microphone. At first, I stand in my place, paralysed in shock, unsure of what to do with myself. I can feel everyone staring at me and I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. For a brief moment, I look around me and see the relief on the other girl's faces, which only fills me with more dread. Unreasonable thoughts of running away enter my mind but I know that I cannot escape; I can only desperately hope that it wasn't my name that was called out, that it was someone else's instead. _My name was only in there five times, the odds should have been entirely in my favour._  
I must have been standing still for too long as the next thing I know, I'm being grabbed by two peacekeepers and dragged by my arms towards the stage. This brings me out of my trance and I immediately wrench myself from their grasp. They go to grab me again, thinking that I want to escape, _but where would I go?_  
"I can walk by myself!" I shout, my voice cracking in fear and desperation. I attempt to release myself from their grasp once again. I hear a grunt from one of them and they drop me rather violently, shoving me forwards, and I struggle to keep my balance as they do so. As I walk, they dig their batons into my back to ensure that I walk in the right direction. Everyone's eyes follow me as I walk down the middle of the crowd, which makes me uncomfortable so I do my best to fixate on a point ahead of me, avoiding any eye contact and keeping my head high. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry,_ I chant as I walk.  
I reach the steps leading to the stage where Effie stands at the top with a fake smile plastered across her face, ready to lead me to my place. One of the peacekeepers gives me one last painful shove with their baton, digging it into my spine to prompt me up the steps. I bite my lip to stop myself from wincing and I mount the steps up onto the stage. Effie gently puts her arm around my shoulder once I've reached the top and carefully leads me to a place next to the microphone. 

"And now for the boys!" Chimes Effie, trying to sound as enthusiastic as she possibly can.

While Effie goes over to the bowl containing the boy's names, I take a moment to glance back at my parents seated behind me. Already, I can tell it was a mistake. They're both clutching onto each other, my Father's eyes are watery and his jaw is clenched, my Mother's face is buried into his chest, her body shaking as she cries. I pull my glance away immediately and bite my lip once more, choking back the tears. _Don't cry. Don't make yourself look weak. It's all going to be okay._ I stare ahead of me and fixate on the hills belonging to the woods beyond the fence. Memories of my mother taking me hunting and stopping for some bread and cheese upon those hills come to mind but are soon cast away as I hear Effie read out the male tribute's name. 

"Ruben Bransworth." Says Effie as her eyes search the crowd for the 'winner' of the boys reaping.

 _Oh God_ , I think, _not him, anyone but him_. Ruben Bransworth: the boy in the year above me that nearly every girl at the school is head over heels for. _Imagine the heartbreak those girls must be facing, how truly devastating_ , I think sarcastically. He's your typical tall, dark and handsome type of guy; 'deeply honey' comes to mind when looking at his smooth, golden skin. His usual wild, poufy curls have been somewhat tamed and rest in wet ringlets upon his head. It's a shame his pretty face has an ugly personality, he's cocky and completely self-centered with little regard for others, perhaps he's finally getting what he deserves. _But no one deserves this..._  
He barely has time to register his shock before a path clears for him as the boys around him step away. He recovers quicker than me and obediently makes his way to the stage without the helpful encouragement from the peacekeepers. He stands in his place calmly and looks out blankly towards the crowd, with no emotion shown on his face. He's a notably taller than me, which is pretty tall considering I'm around 5'8, although, he's clearly muscular due to him being the blacksmith's son.  
As the Mayor returns to read the dreary Treaty of Treason, I look out to the crowd and end up catching the eyes of my relatives. My brother Rye stands with my Grandmother, my Aunt Prim and Gale and they're all fighting tears. Once the Mayor has finished, he gestures for me and Ruben to shake hands. He shakes my hand and we share a very awkward glance. In those few seconds, I notice his eyes sharing a likeness to the meadow at the beginning of spring; a lush, pale green of the new grass sprouting, with patches of earth still recovering from the winter thaw. _Did I seriously just analyse the colour of his eyes? I blame my father for teaching me colour theory._ We stand once more to face the crowd as the anthem blares out, signalling the end of the reaping. Once the anthem finishes, we're lead into the Justice Building and taken into separate rooms where we'll say our goodbyes to our families and friends.

 _I might be waiting here a while_ , I think. No doubt there'll be many people visiting Ruben but as for me...family is all that I have. I have no friends but I assume no one wants to be friends with me because nobody wants to be involved with a Victor. People believe it can only lead to bad things and that includes being involved with Victor's children, therefore, Rye and I only have each other to keep our company. I decide to take a seat at the window bay and watch as the crowd slowly clears out. I start to think about what would happen if I didn't survive; Rye would be terribly lonely, I couldn't imagine spending a day without him. My mother wouldn't be able to handle it, she'd most likely fall into a depressive state and my father would be too busy trying to keep her together to notice Rye falling apart. Aunt Prim is too busy studying to be the District's Doctor; she's even been planning to reopen our family's Apothecary store, along with my Grandmother's help. Gale works down in the Mines every day and has his own family to care for.

I press my head against the icy window pane, squeezing my eyes shut and _willing_ myself not to cry. I get a fright when the door is brashly shoved open, and my Brother, Aunt Prim and Grandmother, come rushing in. Rye is the first to throw his arms around me.

"They can't take you!" whimpers Rye, "You can't leave me! I won't let them take you away-"

"Rye, it's okay-"I start, but I'm cut off by his sobbing.

My Grandmother gently coaxes Rye off of me and calms him down. "Now don't you worry about Willow, she's brave and strong, just like your mother."

"Yes," continues Aunt Prim, "and she knows how to hunt! She'll win, she has every advantage."

"Exactly!" I say, "I will be the one coming home, I will win, I won't leave you."

"Promise?" he asks.

I look at him for a moment, it seems he's more afraid for me than I am for myself, and I reply, "I promise." Somehow, I manage a smile.

The door is shoved open once more and two Peacekeepers come storming in. "Time's up." One grunts, grabbing at my family to be pulled away.

"No!" cries Rye, and he latches onto me for one last hug.

I hold him close to me and bury my head in his dirty blonde curls. "Hey, it's okay! I love you Rye and I'll see you soon, I'll be back before you know it!"

Just then another peacekeeper enters the room to remove Rye and he's ripped from my arms. I watch helplessly as I see him carried out of the room, kicking, screaming and crying. And then there's silence. I feel suddenly overwhelmed: my throat has gone tight and my eyes sting with tears. _You can't cry, you mustn't._ I manage to blink back the tears and take in a deep breath. _You're going to come home,_ I think _, you have to._

I'm lead out of a back door and into the car. The journey to the train station is a short one, and once we arrive, cameras are there to greet us. _Good thing I hadn't been crying._  
I board the train, avoiding as many cameras as I can because the constant camera flashes are aggravating. The doors hiss as they automatically close behind me and I take a seat by the window. I look out, letting my mind wonder when my eyes find Ruben, waving to the cameras, putting on a show while Effie waits for him at the doors of the train looking impatient. I roll my eyes; he's already flaunting himself to the Capitol, how ridiculous. Effie finally manages to coax Ruben onto the train and he decides to seat himself opposite me.  
"Having fun?" I say tauntingly. 

He rests his leg on his knee and folds his arms behind his head before replying, "Oh I'm having a whale of a time, thanks for asking! Although, you would have thought there'd be a red carpet, quite disappointing really." 

30 seconds alone with him and already, I can't stand his vexing attitude. "We're tributes not royalty." 

"Speak for yourself." 

"You know, cockiness is a very unattractive quality." 

"First of all, I'm not cocky. Secondly, even if I were cocky, I could never be unattractive, it's just impossible." 

I scoff at that last comment. 

"Oh Willow, let's be honest. You're not exactly an oil painting are you?' 

" _Excuse me_?" 

"Not to worry, though, you'll still have lots of sponsors which means I'll have to try a bit harder to keep up with you." 

"Keep up with me?" 

"My goodness, I thought you'd be a little brighter considering." 

"Considering what?" 

He lets out a little sigh and shifts forwards, his arms acting as a pillar for his body as his hands rest on his knees. "You're the daughter of 2 Victors." 

"So?" 

"So, you're already in the spotlight and no doubt that the Capitol already loves the girl of fire's daughter! I mean just look at you, you're basically just a younger, less talented version of Katniss!" 

"How dare you!" I yell, rising out of my seat. 

He matches my height, towering over me. "Trying to be intimidating are we?"  
"Oh shut up. You think you're so prestige, don't you? Well, wake up sunshine, because an attitude like that _certainly_ won't get you any sponsors." 

"Oh, but if it were up to your personality, I'm pretty sure that sponsors wouldn't even bat an eyelid at you. Thank goodness for that sterling reputation of yours because let's face it, without your parents' status and reputation, you're nothing!"

I feel my face go hot with anger and I grab for the bottle of whisky, resting on the side table next to me and swing for him. He veers back and laughs as I hit all but the air in front of him. I immediately regret my actions but I stand my ground regardless.

"Okay Willow, how about you put that down, or give it to me before you hurt yourself." He says, still laughing. He reaches forwards to take the bottle from my hands however, I kick him before can get too close. I was aiming for his leg however, my kick went to a more central area, causing him to cry out in pain and double over.

"What in the _hell_ is going on?!" Shouts Effie as she steps through the doorway with the other Victors behind. 

Her outburst startles me so much that I drop the Whiskey, smashing as it hits the floor. 

"Ah great, I was saving that Whiskey." I hear Haymitch mutter in the background. 

Effie's face has turned an odd purple colour and her face is scrunched up with rage. "Fighting with another tribute, before the games? What on _earth_ were you two thinking?! Surely you both know the rules?"  
We both nod.  
"Right then, I expect you both to behave in a more civil manner, do I make myself clear?"

Again, we both nod.

"Good." Says Effie, letting out a sigh of relief. She waves her hands over her face and recomposes herself and suddenly switches mood. "Who wants some food? I must say, these biscuits are absolutely divine!" 

"I'll pass," I say. "In fact, I'd rather be alone right now." With that, I walk through the doors towards the back of the train.

I sit at the back of the train, looking out of the window. I watch as the train station of District 12 becomes nothing but a blur. A thought occurs to me that I may not see District 12 ever again and I feel a pang of sadness. I think about allowing myself to cry when I hear the cart door open. My mother and my father walk in, hand in hand, and I'm filled with relief. We all sit together, held in each other's arms and I bury my face into my father's chest, taking in his scent. He smells like freshly baked bread and cinnamon, the smells that I associate with _home_. No one says a word, but we don't need to, for actions speak much louder than words.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello! So Ruben (one of my favourite characters) has just been introduced, what are your first impressions of him?**

 **I don't have much to say other than thank you for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy my fanfic!**

 **A special thank you to those who have left me reviews, I really love reading comments and it motivates me to keep up the writing!**

 **Liv**


	4. The Train

**Chapter 4 – The Train**

After dinner a luxurious dinner of roasted rabbit in a red wine sauce with an array of brightly coloured vegetables, I could barely fit desert, so I bring my carrot cake with me as we all sit in a living area and watch the recap of the reaping. Even though at home I did eat well, the food was nothing compared to the fine Capitol cuisine. I make sure I seat myself as far away from Reuben as physically possible, we wouldn't want another cat fight. He tries to catch my gaze a number of times but I turn a blind eye to it. The sight of my parents cuddling on the sofa puts a smile on my face and reminds me of cosy winter nights by the fireplace. When Rye and I were younger, we would both tiptoe downstairs from our beds and join our parents on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. Even though we were supposed to be sleeping, they never seemed to object. I feel a pang of sadness at the thought of Rye so I try push the memory away and I settle down to eat my cake. The holographic TV is turned on and Caesar Flickerman is introducing the reaping alongside Claudius Templesmith. First up, is District 1. There are multiple volunteers which are very common for Districts 1 and 2 but in the end, an 18-year-old girl called Cicely and a 17-year-old boy called Duke are chosen. In District 2, a 16-year-old girl called Sille and an 18-year-old boy called Vince are chosen. I feel sick with dread and we haven't even reached district 3 yet. Perhaps I should slow down on the cake. Either way, these tributes already look much stronger, taller and faster than me. I'm not sure I want to watch this anymore, but I know I have to. I need a clear idea of what I'm up against. Only a few more tributes catch my attention, otherwise most of the tributes look quite average. A 15-year-old boy from District 3 called Akamai, he's bound to be smart; a 14-year-old girl named Anaya who seems very cocky; a 17-year-old girl called Elin from District 5, there's something about her than just makes me feel uneasy; finally, he didn't so much catch my attention as a threat but I felt sympathetic; a 13-year-old boy called Bai from district 9 who looks like he's about 8 years old.

"He won't last two minutes..." I hear my mum mutter under her breath. I can tell from the way she says it that he reminds her of Rue. Not only that, but the sad thing is, she's right. This year, a strong set of tributes have been selected, most are my age or older, and I doubt my own survival let alone Bai's.

The District 12 reaping is shown, and I cringe every time there's a close up of me, why do they feel the need to zoom in so much? My long nose seems to protrude from my face and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I look visibly sweaty, yuck.

"Oh Willow, you look like an absolute treasure!" Effie says, clearly choking up. I give Effie a smile of gratitude despite my thoughts, I'm not in the mood for yet another lecture about manners. At long last, the recap ends with a quick summary from Claudius and Caesar, and the TV is turned off.

That night, I lie in my bed and stare up at the ceiling. In the darkness of the room, I can see the diamond encrusted chandelier swaying gently from the slight motion of the train. I look over to the clock and see it is only 10 o'clock and sleep seems to elude me. Usually, I fall asleep within 10 minutes but it's been a whole hour and the most I've done is roll over onto my side. I guess seeing the other tributes from the reaping recap has given me an insight into what I'll be up against which only builds up my terror. Tomorrow we'll arrive in the Capitol and be greeted by the very people who'll cheer at our deaths: there's nothing that disgusts me more than the thought of that. The longer I lay here, the more I'll frustrate myself thinking about the Capitol. I can feel my temperature rising and my body breaking out into sweats. I suddenly feel suffocated by the weight of my duvet covers and so I throw them off of me and get out of bed, eager to be anywhere that doesn't make me feel so imprisoned.

I find myself on some sort of balcony above the room from the back of the train. I stand, leaning on the banister, drinking a hot chocolate given to me by an Avox, while the wind causes my hair to sweep into a tangled mess around my face. The cold air is surprisingly refreshing against my bare skin although, I regret not bringing a dressing gown or at least a pair of socks, I can already feel goose bumps prickling my skin. I'm half tempted to throw out my arms and pretend I'm a bird flying through the cool night air. I can only imagine the sense of freedom I'd get. If I were any kind of bird, I'd like to think I'd be a Mockingjay. It seems like such a turbulent animal, being something that the Capitol never intended to create; finally, something that the Capitol can't control.

"Isn't it a tad cold to be wearing a flimsy nightdress outdoors?" A familiar yet unpleasant voice says, interrupting my thoughts. I don't bother to turn and face him for Reuben has already appeared by my side and is now also leaning over the banister. "I mean, I would give you my dressing gown but I'm stark naked beneath and I don't intend to give you the satisfaction of seeing my glorious co-"

"God you are absolutely vile! How the hell did you even find me up here? And more importantly, who the hell sleeps naked?"

"As interesting as these questions are, might I suggest you not waking up the whole train?"

My cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"And on the contrary, I'm most certainly _not_ vile and in fact, find myself to be quite delightful."

"Ha. You're most certainly not."

"I believe that's a matter of opinion."

"I guess you are entitled to those beliefs but then again, roughly 80% of people who have a mental illness don't actually know they have it so perhaps that's why you have no recollection of your unpleasant nature."

"You know Willow; jealousy is a very ugly sin..."

"In what way am I jealous?" I laugh.

"Well, bullying usually occurs because a person is jealous of another."

"I am not a bully. If anything, _you_ are the bully."

"Since the incident from this morning, I've done nothing particularly brash towards you."

"You were snarky towards me just now!"

"That was actually just humour, you need to lighten up."

"Did you seriously just tell me to _lighten up_?"

"Would you rather I said the word _brighten_ instead of _lighten_?"

"Oh stop being so unbearable for just one moment won't you?! We are on a train on its way to the Capitol where we are about to be put into an arena and slaughtered, and you're asking me to _lighten up?_ Give me a break!"

"There aren't many breaks I can give you unless you're suggesting I break a bone of yours, in which case I'd be _happy_ to comply-."

"Oh just shut up! Stop!"

"Stop what?"

"Whatever this is you think you're doing!"

"Well before you rudely insulted me, I was planning to apologise."

"Apologise? What's the point? We are going to have to kill each other in the next few days, I don't think it's wise to be making friendships."

"Well if not a friendship, why not an alliance?"

"Are you joking?" I scoff.

"Well, why not?"

I glare at him.

"Ouch. I'm guessing you really hate my guts then?"

"I don't _hate_ you. It's just, if you happened to get strapped to a whipping post, I'd ask the Peacekeeper if I could have a turn of flogging you."

"Well, I've been told I have a nice curved and muscular back so at least you'd enjoy the view." He says with a smirk.

I can't help but roll my eyes.

"Tell me you'll at least think about it?"

I scan his face to debate whether or not to trust him but his expression is inscrutable.

"Fine." I huff, "I'll think about it."

His face changes into coy smile. "Well I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Well there isn't really a way for me to avoid seeing you is there?"

With that, he smiles to himself and turns his back to me. Just before he walks away, he undoes his dressing gown and flings it over his shoulder, revealing his indeed, curved and muscular back, but also his bare buttocks. I take a sharp intake of breath and almost spill my hot chocolate down my nightgown. He notices and his shoulders shake as he laughs. I don't realise I'm holding my breath until he disappears from sight and I feel faintly breathless. I stay outside for a while longer hoping that the cool breeze will calm the redness of my burning cheeks before returning to my bed. I twist and turn trying to get comfortable and finally find an acceptable position. Honestly though, who sleeps naked?

 **Author's note:**

 **Hey! Thank you for reading this chapter, as you can tell I really like humour and I seem to find myself really funny? If you don't like humour then unfortunately for you, there's more coming lol! Reuben is literally my humour 'weapon'…if that's even a thing. So yeah, I hope you enjoyed reading it! I always appreciate any comments, advice or future chapter ideas, so please feel free to drop me a message or review!**

 **Thanks again!**

 **\- Liv**


	5. Tribute Preparations

**Chapter 5 – The Capitol**

I arrive into the dining cart and take a seat next to my father at the table.  
"Good morning." He says softly, pulling me in for a light hug.  
"G'morning everyone." I say.  
My mum replies with a smile. Shortly after, Haymitch enters the cart, squinting, presumably because the light coming from the window isn't helping his hangover. He stumbles across the room and plonks himself onto a sofa, throwing his arm across his face and groaning.  
"Rough night Haymitch?" My dad asks.  
"Umph." He replies. "I've been laying off of the drink, and I feel like I'm being dragged back into hell."  
"What's prompted you to do that?" Asks my mum.  
He sits up to look at me. "For Willow."  
"For me?"  
"Yes, for you. I am going to do everything in my power to help you survive, Willow, and if that includes staying completely sober, so be it. I can't lose my favourite girl now can I?"

Just then, Effie tottles in and, surprisingly, she's wearing minimal makeup and a very ordinary looking blue dress. "Haymitch, get your feet off of the sofa; it's bad manners."  
Haymitch rolls his eyes but does what he's told. "Unfortunately, Willow, I have to pretend she's my favourite girl." He says with sly grin.  
"If you were pretending, you wouldn't have given me this ring you silly old man!" she says, indicating to her engagement ring.  
"Yeah, yeah, pass me a croissant will you Effie?"  
She bends down, leaving a kiss on his forehead. "Okay darling." She says, handing him a croissant.

It's weird, you'd never have thought that Haymitch and Effie would be together, but here we are today. They've changed each other for the better. Effie looks less freakish now because Haymitch likes her without makeup, but she still has to dress up for events such as the Reaping. Haymitch drinks considerably less than he used to thanks to Effie, but again, at events such as the Reaping, he drinks to stop the bad memories from coming back. Such different people seem to click so well with each other, it almost gives you hope that not all things in life will be bad...almost.

Reuben soon joins us for breakfast, and we all feast on a huge platter of food. Pastries, eggs, bacon, mushrooms, roasted tomatoes and a loaf of what I'm told is Tiger bread. I manage to control myself rather than cram everything I can into my mouth... unlike Reuben.  
"Reuben, try not to overdo it, you may end up making yourself sick as you won't be used to eating such rich and large amounts of food... perhaps you should at least try to slow down?" My mum says.  
"I'll be fine, I'm a big boy." Says Reuben with a mouthful of food.  
I hear a slight thud under the table, followed by a muffled "Ouch." from Reuben.  
"Manners..." Effie says under her breath, shaking her head.

Soon the Capitol comes into view and both Reuben and I are at a loss for words as we gaze out of the window, astonished by the size of it. I knew the Capitol was big but compared to what I thought it was... it is absolutely humongous! The buildings have to be 10 times taller than the trees in the forest and the whole place twinkled with lights, despite it being day time. It looks like a city you'd imagine in a magical utopian fairy-tale. How can such a beautiful place be filled with such people that cheer at the deaths of children? It's disgusting.

Right on que, we pass through a tunnel and into the Capitol train station where there're crowds of people waving, cheering, and jumping with excitement, desperate to get a look at us. Reuben starts to wave back however I start to back away from the window in horror.  
"Willow, what are you doing? Come and wave to them, they'll love it!"  
I'm about to say no when I realise I need these people to like me. Despite how dreadful I may think these people are, I need sponsors, I need all the help I can get if I want to survive. I return to the window and hesitantly start to wave, and the crowd is noticeably more excited now that I've appeared at the window.  
We spend a few minutes waving from the window before Effie interrupts. "Right, time to go! We've got to get you to the training centre in time for the tribute parade!" She says as she finishes fixing on a flamboyant wig.

The second the train door opens, we're bombarded with the sound of the crowd going wild, along with a constant blinding flash from multiple cameras. A few of the Capitol people try grab at us as we make our way to the car, and it's a relief when the door finally shuts, dulling the overpowering sound. I let out a long breath. "That was just-"  
"Overwhelming." Says Reuben, finishing my sentence. I nod. "I sure am glad that's over." He says.  
"Well, get used it." Says Haymitch, "Because it's only the beginning."

As we drive through the city, I stare out of the window, lost in my own thoughts. The Capitol is exactly how my parents described it, beautiful, strange but disturbing and yet, I can't help but be in awe at all the scenery. Tall sleek buildings, miraculous shops, the pristine marble pavements running through the streets of the Capitol. There's not aninch of dirt or dust in sight.

The fashion hasn't at all changed, people's clothes often resemble animals and bright, bold colours, and other things I wouldn't know what to name, it all just fascinates me. I certainly wouldn't have the courage to go out looking so bold and extravagant, but then again these people are brought up to think that the way they dress is normal.

We pull up to the training centre and the car door is opened for me by an Avox.  
"Come along then, children!" Says Effie.  
We then follow Effie into a lift;  
"We'll see you back at the apartment!" Calls my mother, waving to me as the doors close.  
We arrive at level -1 and we pile out. There are a number of stylists already waiting for us.

"Right, Willow, you follow Trimarvia and Gordavicious; Reuben, you follow Penolvia and Yaedio, they'll be your prep team; cleaning you up and preparing you for your stylist."  
God, these Capitol names seem to get more and more ridiculous each year.  
I reply with a nod and not a moment sooner, I'm dragged off along a whole row of cubicles, presumably occupied by the tributes I'll be facing in the arena this year. At long last I'm ushered to a cubicle, second to last out of the many rows.

"Right, lay yourself on this table for me, Willow" says a stylist.

I lay myself flat out onto the table and watch as they toddle off to get all the necessary equipment. My prep team looks very freakish. Judging by the clothes they're wearing, this years 'look' must be fluffy. One of them has pale, purple skin, wearing a fluffy yellow wig with all red bobbly hair pins, plotted randomly on the wig. This is followed by a flamboyant, wet leather, pink crop top and a white fluffy skirt, much resembling a cloud. I'm guessing that stylist is Trimarvia, as it sounds like a girl's name, I'm sure I'll find out sooner or later. I'm guessing the other stylist is Gordavicious; with disgusting pale, pigmented green skin, wearing a deep blue wet leathered body suit of some sort, 'complemented' by orange fuzzy platform shoes and a fuzzy yellow cape that drapes across his shoulders.

They come back over with a trolley filled with soaps, moisturisers, wax, perfumes, and strange tools." Do you think you brought enough equipment with you?" I say as a joke. Clearly they don't get the joke and both look horrified at their mistake. "No, no I-I was only joking." I stammer awkwardly.

"My dear, I almost had heart failure! Imagine the embarrassment if the other prep teams had found out we'd not been supplied enough! Gordie, can you just imagine!" exclaims Trimarvia.

"I'd sooner die than have that! Ugh, and the smug look on Radarphella's face, just end it! End it quickly! A clean and merciful death, nothing else will do!" Gordavicious replies, in outrage.

The Capitol people are so melodramatic it's painful, perhaps less painful that The Hunger Games itself. They're now finished with the dramatics and begin my makeover. Firstly, I'm stripped of my gown and I lay completely naked across the table. I'm hosed down, scrubbed several times with soap and a rough sponge, followed by hot wax being spread across every inch of hair across my body. At first the wax was relaxing, only I didn't realize the horrific pain that was to greet me afterwards. They lay strip after strip of paper over the wax before they unexpectedly rip it off, leaving my skin hairless and raw. Soon enough I am completely hairless and once again being hosed down and scrubbed. I feel like a plucked Turkey. _At least the Turkey isn't actually alive while it's being plucked._

Next they spread a layer of thick, scratchy paste across my face and lay a weird vegetable over my eyes. It gives me a shock when I feel a puff of steam being blown onto my face. Soon the paste feels dry, leaving my face feeling stiff. The paste is peeled off and I see discussing lumps of skin and dirt stuck to the inside of the mask. I almost gag at the thought of that muck being on my face.

They expertly thread my eyebrows, making me look stern. I didn't think eyebrows could make a person look much different, but I look quite intimidating. I love it.  
They babble on about how they've had strict orders not to do anything major to my hair, so they merely chop off any split ends, and clip off any stray hairs.

Last but not least they buffer up my nails, applying a clear liquid leaving my nails looking shiny. They both step back to admire their work and sigh blissfully.  
"You look just gorgeous," says Gordavicious, his lip wobbling as he speaks.  
Trimarvia stands there sobbing uncontrollably. These Capitol people are so emotional and it's irritating. I want to get up and slap her for being so ridiculous.  
"We've got to go now, but your stylist will be here soon" says Trimarvia.  
I simply nod.  
Trimarvia and Gordavicious both leave the room and I wrap a white bathrobe around myself before sitting back down. A few moments later I hear the door open but I don't see who it is. Instead of looking up, I stare at my feet.  
"Well? Let me see that beautiful face of yours."  
I look up, half expecting to see another ridiculous Capitol citizen however I've been pleasantly surprised.  
"Cinna." I beam.  
"Nice to see you again, Willow."

 **-**  
 **Author's note:**

 **First of all, thank you so so much for all the comments I've received so far, it honestly brightens my day to think that someone actually likes what I'm writing! It's the main thing that motivates me to keep on writing! This is why I've decided to post this chapter so early! Sending my love to you all!**

 **So this chapter was more of a 'filler' chapter but also gives insight into the pre Hunger Games traditions so I thought I'd 'honour' that in the least sadistic way possible lol. I know fanfics aren't usually this detailed etc, but hopefully it's a good thing that mine will be? As for those Capitol names…they're completely made up so don't worry about correct pronunciations lol! There's be more action soon, I promise! The arena will be VERY exciting, I have so many ideas and just aahhh! I can't wait! I wonder how Reuben is getting along with his prep team, I can't imagine he'll be very cooperative lmao.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyhow, and I always very much appreciate comments, advice, etc!**

 **Thanks again,**  
 **\- Liv**


	6. The Tribute Parade

**Chapter 6 – The Tribute Parade**

"You never told me you'd be coming back! I thought you'd moved on from styling tributes in the Games?" I ask Cinna. Years later and he hasn't changed from my mother's first described meeting with him; his gold eyeliner is simplistic yet charming.  
"I had to come back, there's no way I'm letting you get styled by anyone else but me. I'm sure the world of fashion can wait." he says, chuckling. "Right then, time to-"  
"Raise hell?" I interrupt.  
He laughs. "Precisely." Cinna stands up and makes his way towards a door at the back, opening it, and then beckons me to follow him. He leads me to a more luxurious room compared to the one I was just in. Pearly white carpet, embroidered blue walls, leather sofas, a mirror with what looks like diamonds around the edges. I gaze in wonder at how expensive this room alone must have been.  
"It looks a lot better than that plain old grey room we were in before, that's for sure." says Cinna.  
"Yet pointless." I say in a sing song voice.  
"There's no such thing as pointless interior in the Capitol." Cinna points over to a big mirror with a mini platform just in front. I'm guessing he wants me to stand there. I wait on the platform while Cinna disappears into a closet to get my costume. I hope it's not anything like the tributes from last year. They were dressed as canaries that are brought down into the mines, used to indicate dangerous gases. I can only imagine the embarrassment of having to stand and wave to the crowd as a big, fluffy yellow bird.  
Cinna walks back in, holding my costume on a hanger with a cover zipped over it. Strangely, I'm quite intrigued to see what I'll be wearing, seeing as I'm not particularly interested in fashion.  
"You ready to see your outfit?" he asks.  
"Oh, spare me the drama will you Cinna."  
"Don't pretend you're not even a little bit excited." He says pointing a finger at me. He unzips the covering and reveals the dress. I raise my eyebrows and I'm honestly quite stunned. "Cinna, I-"  
"If you don't like it, I can always make some last minute alterations but-"  
"No!" I shout, cutting him off. Recovering from my outburst, I quickly calm my tone: "I love it, it's perfect. Please, _don't_ change it."  
Cinna looks relieved and a satisfied smile sits on his face. "You were easier to please that I thought you would be."  
"Why does everyone seem to think I'm some sort of scrooge? Honestly!"

About an hour later, I'm stood in front of the mirror in one of the most extraordinary dresses that I've ever had the pleasure of seeing, let alone wearing. It's a jet black, sleeveless play suit which ends at my thighs; the torso is made of fine silk with a skirt that connects to my waist. trailing behind me, and leaving my legs exposed. The skirt itself is encrusted with deep red jewels which seem to glint in every movement. The straps of my black heels are wrapped up to my lower thighs and thankfully, I've gained some height. Some glitter is added to my hair and my curls have been stylishly pinned back into a loose bun. A few curls are left to rest beside my face which is then complimented by a swirling crown, giving the effect of flames dancing on my head. Cinna applies a glittery gold eyeshadow, adding a black shadow on top to give me a smoky eye look. It is then topped off by a small amount of mascara to bring out my eyes and some blusher to give my cheeks a flourish. Cinna steps back to admire his work.  
"Wow, Cinna I don't know what to say I-"  
"Then don't say anything at all. In fact, twirl for me." Cinna replies.  
I smile at him before stepping carefully off of the platform and give him a little twirl.  
"There's no need to make you recognisable since everyone already knows the Girl on fire's daughter; all the attention will be on you I expect. You look gorgeous! And might I add, you and your mother both have fantastic, healthy hair! Now for the finishing touch." He says, taking a bracelet out of his pocket. "Now, the dress has some special effects." He slides bracelet made out of black pearls onto my wrist. "This is what triggers the effect" he says as he points to the only red pearl.  
"What are the effects?" I ask.  
"I think you already have some idea, just with a few changes."  
Great. I'm guessing I'll be replicating my mother's flamed costumes.  
"It's a bit over used don't you think?"  
"Yes, but that's why I've changed it up." He says.  
I give him a look showing I'm not keen.  
"You'll just need to trust me Willow, it's not like your mother's dress, I promise. To say it'll draw attention would be an understatement."  
"I swear if I'm a burnt piece of toast-" I mutter as we start to make our way to the door. Me wearing flames would be like déjà vu, and nobody wants to see something old, everyone wants the newest trends which I'll need, especially if I'm hoping to win over some sponsors.

I reach the chariot and Reuben is already there. He has a similar costume to me, only his is a tight, sleeveless body suit, complimented with a cape, encrusted with deep red jewels, attached to his shoulders. He's wearing the same sort of crown, just a tad manlier, however, only I seem to be wearing the trigger for the effects. The glitter in his dark hair twinkles as he futily tries to tame his stray curls. Noticing my presence, he speaks. "So, would I be correct in saying that the colour of your costume represents the darkness of your soul?"  
"If this is how you make friends, I'm certainly surprised that the whole of 12 wasn't clinging to your leg, begging for your friendship." I reply sarcastically.  
"The fame was too much; I had to distance myself if I was ever to lead a normal life." He says, throwing his hand over his face in a dramatic manor.  
"How truly heart-breaking." I say as I start to walk away, towards the horses attached to our chariot.  
Ruben follows behind me. "It truly is a shame...but be thankful of how lucky you are to spend time with someone as breath-taking as myself."  
I scoff. "The only thing that's breath-taking is that suit of yours. I'm surprised you can breathe it looks so tight."  
He places his hands on his hips defensively. "It's very comfortable actually, not to mention stylish."  
"Well I hate to break it to you but, you look like an evil ballerina."  
"Perhaps I enjoy looking like an evil ballerina." he says as he begins to twirl.  
"Oh dear god..." I moan. I place my hand under the horse's head and with the other hand, gently stroke its face. "Not only are you annoying, but you're an embarrassment too."  
He puts his arm over my shoulder and squeezes my cheek. "Oh don't be such a grouch; it's only a bit of banter." He says mockingly.  
"Oh get off me will you." I say as I shove him away. "Why don't you go antagonise the other tributes? You could literally annoy them to death which is quite a lethal weapon to possess."  
"I'd like to think my most lethal weapon is my rapier wit." He says as he leans his arm up against the horse gently petting it. His bare arms look visibly muscular and I wonder if he's trying to subtly show off.  
"Gee golly Reuben, you're so witty and handsome, I think I may just drop dead on the spot!" I reply sarcastically.  
Just then, Cinna and Reuben's main stylist, Dior, walk over to us. "It's time." Says Cinna, "Are you ready?"  
We nod, and so Cinna beckons for us to climb onto the chariot and I'm the first to get on except, I can't quite get my foot up. Blunderingly, I ask Cinna: "Is there a step ladder or something that I can use? I can't quite reach..."  
"No need." Says Reuben. And without warning, he grabs onto my waist and I let out a small yelp in surprise. I don't even have time to protest as he hoists me up onto the chariot.  
"I suggest you grow some longer legs. Might be useful in the arena." He says, climbing up next to me.  
I give him a shove for that comment.  
It seems that I don't know my own strengths as my push sends Reuben falling off of the chariot. I try to grab for him as he falls but I miss, leaving Reuben sprawled out on the floor. My eyes grow wide with amusement and its Reuben's startled expression that makes me laugh. Cinna and Dior laugh too. "I'm so sorry; I didn't actually mean to push you so hard!" I say, trying to conceal my laughter.  
"Somehow, I find that very hard to believe." He says, laughing as his stylist helps him up. "On the bright side, I managed to make you laugh." He says, looking very proud of himself.  
"You make it sound as if it's an impossible task." I say defensively, "I laugh all the time."  
He climbs back up to my side and gives me an exasperated look. "You're literally the president of the no-fun club."  
"Don't make me push you again." I threaten, but Reuben merely laughs.  
My skirt and Reuben's cape hang off the edge of the chariot and we're told to stand up straight, with our chins up.  
"I want you to be fierce; no waving, smiling, be almost…pretentious; act as if this whole event is beneath you, because you're going to blow everyone away, almost literally."  
"Almost literally, wait- what do you mean?" I say with concern.  
Cinna steps back chuckling.  
"C-Cinna?!"  
"You're all set to go." Says Dior, "We'll be waiting here for you at the end."  
"And don't forget to trigger the effects!" Adds Cinna.  
"Effects?" asks Rueben, his face lighting up.

Suddenly the opening music begins and the massive doors slide open. I wasn't at all nervous...until now. I feel a lump in my throat as I see District 1's chariot roll out, led by their snowy white horses. I watch as the other chariots roll out and my nerves only seem to be building up. Before I know it, it's our turn and the sound of the delighted crowd is almost deafening as we reach the doors, ready to start our parade down to the city circle. Overwhelmed by enormity of the event, my hand finds Reuben's arm and I cling onto him for dear life. I look at him in alarm and in return, he gives me a warm smile, taking my hand in his.  
"You'd better be taking me out to dinner after this you little flirt." He jokes.  
"Just shut up and hold my hand before I fall you idiot." I strain, doing my best to conceal my fear. As expected, the attention is drawn onto us like a magnet, and I am crippled by fear. I look up at the big broadcasting screens: Rueben is doing exactly as Cinna and Dior asked and looks absolutely breath-taking. Me on the other hand, I look like a deer caught in headlights.  
"Focus on something other than the crowd, it helps me." Mutters Reuben.  
I suck in a breath and my eyes search for something to focus on, something that'll make me feel angry and fierce…President Snow. I fix my gaze on him and already I feel the anger arising.  
How dare he subject us all to this fate, how dare he work the Districts to the bone without an inch of reward let alone the basic necessity of food, how dare he condemn all who live under him to a certain fatalistic death while he sits comfortably on his undeserving arse, being waited on hand and foot. President Snow wants a show? I'll give him a show. I will win these games and I will do everything in my power afterwards to ensure his death, and that his death will be so agonizingly painful, he'll beg me to end it quickly.  
"What do you say Reuben, shall we give these people something more to cheer for?"

"You know me, I do love a bit of attention."  
"Of course you do." I say. Without further ado, I activate the effects and at first, nothing happens. I look at Reuben very perplexed. Then suddenly I see sparks flying wildly off of our crowns, crackling as it does so. I see that television screen has switched its focus to us along with the crowd as our unexpected effects begin. Gradually, the sparks work its way down and our torsos begin to light up, giving the effect of glowing embers and burning coal. It doesn't stop there, smoke starts to run down my skirt and Reuben's cape, leaving a trail of dark, smoky clouds behind us. The crowd start to cheer for us, waving and begging for our attention, however we remain complacent. _Bloody hell Cinna_ , I think. I look again at the television screen and I must admit, we look very striking.  
Suddenly, a large explosion is heard behind us and everyone turns to look in shock. Many gasp and the crowd falls silent at the marvel of what our costumes have left behind.  
Mine explosions. Genius!  
Another goes off which starts up the crowd again; clapping wildly, chanting our names, throwing us flowers, confetti, and even some underwear! I see Reuben wink in the direction of some girls and they go absolutely wild. I'm pretty sure I see one of the girl's faint.  
Boom! Another explosion! We're the centre of attention. We bring our interlocked hands up into the air in triumph, proudly and confidently showing off our costumes. I can only imagine how jealous the other tributes must be of us, hogging all of the attention and air time.

Finally, we reach the city circle and the music concludes. President Snow steps forwards to give the traditional welcoming speech. I catch mine and Reuben's faces on the screen and we've evidently been given excessive air time. Cinna has once again, worked his magic and made us stand out. He came back with a bang...literally.

I smirk as we parade around the city circle one last time before heading back to the training centre, and the doors close behind us. I squeeze Reuben's hand and flash him a smile as if to congratulate him on his personal performance, and he squeezes back. Not a moment sooner we are bombarded by our prep team singing our praises. I look around to see the other tributes staring at us with cold, hard envy. Not only have we gained some sponsors tonight, but I believe we may have also gained a few enemies.

 **Author's note:**

 **Hey, hey, hey! I've totally not been writing this instead of doing my homework…pfft. I'vr had exams all week and my last one is tomorrow! (until christmas ugh)  
I added in quite a lot of dialogue for once which I'm not usually good at so I hope that turned out well lol...  
Personally, I thought the costume effects were pretty badass, I wonder who thought of them…*cough cough*  
I don't know about you but I'm really starting ship Willow and Reuben, is that a thing? Can a writer fangirl and ship her own characters, especially so early on?  
Anyways, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it aaand I can't wait to release the next chapter! Although, after chapter 7 the updates me be a little slower because of college but yeah (I'm very impatient lol) **

**I always appreciate comments, advice, or future chapter ideas so please don't hesitate to drop me a message, etc!**

 **Thanks again!**

 **-Liv**


	7. Training: Part 1

**Chapter 7 – Training**

Afterwards, Effie comes to collect us from the chariots in order to escort us to our apartment. We step into the lift and as we rise upwards, we're told by Effie that each district has its own floor; therefore, we're situated on floor twelve. "The penthouse!" She adds. The sensation of being in an elevator is not a pleasant experience, it's made entirely out of glass and so whenever I look down, I feel a wave of vertigo. When I'm in the forest back home, I love climbing the trees and looking down, it gives me a rush of adrenaline, however, I'm worried that if Effie's heels are too sharp, it'll break the glass and we'll be sent hurtling to our deaths so I grip onto the railing out of my irrational fear. Perhaps it's the sensation of moving that's off-putting? Reuben seems to be enjoying it as he excitedly looks down at the ground that's gradually getting further and further away. Thankfully, the ride only lasts about a minute and we step into the apartment. Effie tells us to go look around and choose a room each. We'll need to get washed up for dinner which is in an hour, she adds. We walk through the apartment at a leisurely pace, taking in the strange interior, before choosing our bedrooms. There are more bedrooms than needed in the apartment which makes me wonder if they use the building for anything other than a tribute centre whilst The Hunger Games is dormant; it would be a waste of space otherwise. Exhausted from the events of the day, I remove my clothing, leaving it in a heap on the floor and I enter the ensuite bathroom, grateful to be climbing into a hot shower. I gamble and select a random button out of the many and I come out smelling like vanilla and coconut. It's a relief to have all of the makeup off of my face as I don't have to worry about rubbing my eye by mistake and looking like a Panda. The Capitol technology genuinely impresses me and I imagine I'd be very lazy if I lived in the Capitol. I don't even have to brush my own hair as a brisk gush of air is blown at me, drying and detangling my hair, leaving it flowing behind me. If I were at home, I'd never be able to make my hair look this perfect in such a short amount of time. I go back into the bedroom and see that my tribute parade outfit has been taken away, I assume, by an Avox. I raid the wardrobe for some more comfortable clothes and manage to find some silk garments. I exit the room and I can smell food the minute I step out of the door.

We feast on the Capitol's fine cuisine and I eat till I feel like a stuffed Turkey, and that was before they had even brought out the desserts. Growing up in the Mellark household, you're bound to have a sweet tooth, after all, my father is a baker. Our family motto may as well be: there's always room for desert! I didn't recognise any of the desserts set in front of me but looked delicious all the same.  
"What do you call this?" I ask, trying to savour the taste instead of wolfing it down.  
"Gooseberry and ginger tart my dear!" Replies Effie as she delicately pops a chocolate covered fruit into her mouth.  
"What the hell is a Gooseberry?" Asks Reuben.  
Effie furrows her brows in confusion. "I'm not actually quite sure. All I know is that it tastes _fabulous_ with a scoop of pear and blue cheese ice cream on top!" She replies.

Soon, we're all finished with our food and discussing strategies around the table. "First things first, would you like to be trained together or separately?" Asks my dad. I look at Reuben, allowing him to make the decision.  
"Together." He says.  
My father starts to scribble some words on a piece of paper and it's my mother's turn to talk.  
"Okay so we know Willow is handy with a bow and knives, _and_ she knows a thing or two about hunting, but what can you do Reuben?" She asks.  
"What can't I do?" He says with an air of confidence about him.  
My mum raises her eyebrow. I can tell she has no patience to put up with his nonsense. "I'm being serious Reuben. You want to continue treating this as a joke, then maybe I should too. We'll see how funny this moment will be in the Games when you're wishing you'd been given advice on how to apply your skills then shall we?"  
His expression changes and he sighs. "I'm the son of a Blacksmith. I help my father out. I can make a fire, I can hit things really hard and spit on it after. I hope you weren't expecting too much from me because that's all I've got."  
"I think you've got a good set of skills Reuben." Says my father.  
"How so?"  
"Making a fire will keep you from freezing to death. You could also make your own weapon if you really needed to. All that muscle you've built up while hammering metal, you'll be good in combat. I bet you can run fast too."  
Reuben just looks at his hands and shrugs.  
"Oh, don't tell me you're giving up already!" Says Haymitch, "You're not dead yet, pretty boy."  
"I think I'm done for today." He says, standing. "Goodnight." And with that, he leaves and locks himself in his room for the night.  
"Well that could've gone smoother..." Haymitch says, sipping his drink.  
"Shut up Haymitch." My mum says sharply.  
"I think I'll hit the hay too." I say. "Today's been a long day..."  
No one objects and I say goodnight, before snuggling into my satin bedsheets and dozing off.

I wake up feeling disorientated. It's weird waking up somewhere other than your own room. I groan as I shift myself out of bed and I throw open the curtains. My eyes scrunch up as I gradually adjust to the light. I walk sleepily to the bathroom and take a quick shower before putting on the clothes left out for me to wear for the training centre. The outfits are different every year; this year we have a white short sleeved t-shirt with my district number in light blue on the back. We have white sporty leggings with another light blue line running down the side and lastly, a basic pair of white trainers. I can't decide whether to have my hair down or to tie it up but I eventually just tie my hair back into sleek ponytail.  
We quickly eat breakfast and my mum fusses over me the whole time. She even insists on braiding my hair, so I let her.

Another quick ride in those awful lifts and we step out into the training room, and thankfully we're one of the first to arrive. I would hate to walk in late and have all the tributes stare.  
So far it's just district 12, 3, 5 and 8 but the other districts soon arrive. We gather round Atala, who's getting rather old, the head trainer as she delivers us information about the rules and tells us to make sure we visit every station. During the talk, I take some time to glance around the tributes.  
District 1, the two 18 year olds. Cicely, I think her name is, has tanned skin and mid-length brown hair. The first thing I notice about her face is her long protruding nose. The male tribute next to her is literally huge. He has jet black hair that's been slicked back with gel, he looks greasy and disgusting. His eyes seem to always look droopy as if he's been snacking on sugar berries. The girl from district 2, has shimmering golden hair that falls in ringlets down her back, she's pretty and she knows it. The boy from district 2 is a tall, skinny guy and his face looks like it's frozen into a frown.

I quickly glance over the rest of the group just to see if there's anyone that stands out in particular and a boy from district 8 catches my eye, I can't quite remember his name. He looks about my age and he has soft looking dirty blonde hair, it's quite curly. He has grey eyes and pale skin; you would think he's from the seam. Suddenly he looks back at me and my eyes instantly dart away. I can feel my cheeks getting hot and I just hope I'm not going red, which would be embarrassing.  
"Any questions?" Asks Atala.  
Rueben raises his hand. "With all those cameras watching, what am I supposed to do if I wanna take a shi-"  
"I think you'll figure it out." Interrupts Atala, clearly disgusted by his question.

The careers snigger at Rueben's comment but the rest of us remain quiet. We are dismissed to go and work at stations. I decided to just start off with basic survival skills like starting fires. I find it's not hard at all and I move straight into tying knots, which I manage to pick up quickly. I skip the plant knowledge as I know enough about plants because I hunt, plus I use my Grandfather's plant book a lot. I may as well move on with the physical stuff. Hand to hand combat seems like a good place to start and so I take my place on a platform with a trainer and they show me some techniques I could use to suit my body type. I learnt that I need to strike first because I'm fast, a jab straight to the throat would be most effective. Also, a hit to the shins and kneecaps are a good way to really hurt your opponent. I need to use my elbows a lot as I'm not that strong. I need to use my speed to my advantage. I spent at least 45 minutes practising on the trainer and I finally manage to knock them down. My knuckles are bruised already and I'm covered in sweat, I'm stood there, panting like a dog. The trainer tells me to take a rest and drink some water, and that I'm ready to move on to another station.

I flop onto a nearby bench guzzling a bottle of water when Ruben comes and takes a seat next to me.  
"I must say, the sweat dripping from your forehead really gives you a shimmering finish." Says Reuben, as he sits himself next to me.  
"Clearly, you haven't been training hard enough if you haven't worked up a sweat." I say.  
"It's not all about physical training. I see you flew through those survival skills like it was second nature to you and didn't even attempt the plants and herbs section?"  
"I already know about plants and herbs, why would I need to be taught all over again?"  
"Maybe because you only know plants and herbs for one type of climate?"  
I groan. "Prepare yourself, Reuben, for I'm about to say something you may never hear again."  
"Call me intrigued."  
"You're right."  
"I never thought this day would come!" He says, pretending to wipe away a tear. "But on a serious note, why don't you come with me, we can work on that station together?"  
I scrunch up my nose. "Uhm..."  
"C'mon, you could do with a rest from all the physical stuff, give your brain a workout. When I suggested to Haymitch that we work together, I heard no objection." He says, pulling me up.  
"Fine." I grumble.  
We work on the plants and climate sections up until lunch and I must say, I'm beginning to find Reuben more tolerable.

At lunch, the Careers invite me to sit with them, however, I politely decline.  
"Come on Willow, we just want to get to know you better!" Says Sille, the girl from district 2, trying to seem sweet and innocent.  
"No." I say bluntly and I start out to walk to another seat. However, Cicely and Sille, the girls from Districts 1 and 2, go to block my path.  
"Well, why not?" Questions Sille, clearly taken aback by my direct response.  
I let out an exasperated sigh, "You just want to see if I'd be a valuable ally or perhaps even a threat. I have no interest in having any sort of connection to a career because it's the same every year. Those who trust the careers usually end up regretting it later, and I'm not willing to take that chance. So thanks for the offer, but no thanks."  
I try to walk away but Cicely grabs my shoulder. "In the arena, when I'm pressing my sword to your throat, you're going to wish you had accepted our offer." she says, whispering into my ear.  
I shake her arm off of me and scoff. "I'll look forward to it, be sure to invite the others."  
They give me one last icy glare before returning to the career pack. I take a seat next to Reuben with my lunch.  
"Well, aren't you popular." Says Reuben.  
"I couldn't get away quick enough, compared to them, you're a joy to be around!" I slump into the chair and start poking at my food with my fork. "One small conversation with them and already I'm at the top of their kill list."  
"Well, they haven't met me yet."  
"True!" I laugh.  
Reuben drops his fork onto his plate in surprise. "Did I just make you laugh, _again?_ "  
"Don't get used to it."

Lunch ends and we're back to training. I stick with Reuben for the rest of the day, moving from station to station. It is only when we're stepping into the elevator at the end of the day that I realise what's happening. I'm somewhat befriending Reuben and I can't let that happen. I can't afford to trust him, especially if we're going to have to kill each other. It'll only make the experience more painful. I tell myself to think of Reuben as an elevator. I must use him to get to the top, despite how stomach lurching it maybe. _But that's exactly what the Capitol wants. They want you to turn on each other, betray each other...they want us to suffer._

 **Author's note:**

 **Hey! Aren't career tributes just delightful? (not)  
Looks like Willow is starting to think strategically, and I don't blame her since it's a fight for survival.**

 **So the last week I had my first ever acting audition (because yeah I act n stuff) and I'm waiting to hear whether or not I booked it! The wait is AGONIZING. But yeah I thought I'd share a little bit about me because I think it's nice to know I'm not just some mystical creature behind a screen lol. I'd love to get to know my readers too so please do say hi or tell me a little fact about you!**

 **I hope you somewhat enjoyed this chapter, I always appreciate any comments or recommendations, etc.!**

 **-Olivia**


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